


Grandfather

by silly_mortal



Category: The Time of Your Life - Saroyan
Genre: Abuse, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Forced Relationship, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26576338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_mortal/pseuds/silly_mortal
Summary: Kitty makes a friend"Too many things have happened to me." ~ Kitty Duval
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story gets dark.
> 
> As always, my Kitty is based on the one Patti LuPone played in 'The TIme of Your Life' in 1976.
> 
> Kitty's Timeline (so far)
> 
> The Ring  
> Grandfather  
> The Proposition  
> A Series of Questions

Early Autumn, 1936

Kitty never had a grandfather, but she always wanted one. All of her grandparents had died before she was born and had never seen a photo of any of them. Those were back in Poland, with all the family members her parents had left behind. She’d had a wonderful father, but never a grandfather.

When she had imagined having one, giving her advice or telling her stories of the past, the grandfather of her dreams was exactly like Mr. Honeycutt. He was a bald, portly man with kind eyes, small glasses and never to be seen without a smile on his face. He could only be described as ‘jolly’.

Harvey Honeycutt. Even his name was adorable. Kitty was always at her happiest when she looked up from her counter at Hadley’s department store to see Mr. Honeycutt walking her way, always carrying a small piece of chocolate as a gift for her. He refused to be helped by any shop girl other than Kitty. Once, when she was helping another customer, the store manager, Mr. Bryant, walked behind the counter and offered to assist him, but Mr. Honeycutt refused, vehemently and loudly. He would only buy from Kitty and he was always willing to wait as long as it took. 

They met a few months before, when Mr. Honeycutt had come in looking for a present for his wife’s birthday. Kitty had not been at the store long and she was not a natural salesperson. She was happy to answer a customer's questions and give her own opinions, but she wasn’t comfortable trying to talk people into buying things they neither needed nor wanted. The manager had already talked to her about it numerous times and was on the brink of firing her when Mr. Honeycutt came in that first time. 

Mr. Bryant, the short, woman-hating manager had told her, rather forcefully, that if she didn’t make an up-sell to the very next customer who walked in, she would be out on her “pretty, young backside.” He gave it a quick pat, for emphasis, his beady gray eyes darting around the store, to see if anyone else had noticed. The threat terrified Kitty because she desperately needed the job. She didn’t care that the manager and the other shop girls didn’t seem to like her, rarely speaking to her. Kitty could only assume that this was because they could see through her, that they knew what she was. It wasn’t only for the paltry sum she earned there, but also for the fact that the nine hours per day she spent at the store were nine hours she was away from home, nine hours away from Charlie... nine hours away from her real life.

“Mr. Honeycutt!” Mr. Bryant had cheerfully exclaimed, as the customer approached the counter. “We haven’t seen you in quite awhile.” 

“I was away with the missus on a cruise to Europe.”

“To Europe, well-”

Kitty didn’t hear the rest. Mr. Bryant was standing close to her. Too close, the way he always did. Close enough that he was touching her with the side of his torso. She kept her arms at her sides, so he couldn’t press himself against her body, but it did little good. He always moved in a way that was obscene, but not noticeable to anyone but her. The movements of his hips were designed to ever so slightly brush his crotch against her forearm, which was pressed tightly against her side. 

She didn’t understand why the way he looked at her always made her feel so cheap. She wore the same black, modest shop assistant’s dress that every other girl did. She wore very little make-up, aside from a hint of lipstick and some mascara. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself and the more she accentuated her prominent features, the more attention she received. Men seemed to love her large, dark eyes and full lips. She shuddered at the thought of how much they loved the latter. 

Kitty was shaken out of her daze when she heard her name.

“-Kitty. She just joined us a few weeks ago,” Mr. Bryant explained, showing off his too-white teeth and his cold eyes.

“Kitty. That’s a pretty name. Is it short for something or did your parents just like cats?” Mr. Honeycutt grinned.

Kitty smiled back, even though she had heard the question before. She liked him immediately.

“Katerina, sir. But I’ve been called Kitty my whole life.”

“As well you should be. It suits you - a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

She and Mr. Honeycutt continued smiling at one another until Mr. Bryant cleared his throat. Kitty started. She had forgotten he had been standing so oppressively close to her.

“What can we help you with today, Mr. Honeycutt?” 

“I’m here to find something for the missus. Maybe a piece of jewelry.”

“Well, I can help you find something, sir. We have some new-”

“Save yourself the spiel, Bryant, I think I need a woman’s opinion on this gift. Kitty can help me with what I need.” 

“But I am happy to assist, as well, Mr. Honeycutt. Kitty hasn’t been here long and hasn’t had much experience helping out most _valued_ customers.”

“Valued? As in rich? Well, good. I don’t want one of these clerks that you’ve trained to try and make me buy more and more. I’m tired of that technique and if even one more of your people tries it, I will start doing my shopping across town. Is that clear?” 

It wasn’t easy, but Kitty managed to keep from laughing when Mr. Bryant began stammering and sounded like the engine of a motorboat that wouldn’t start. He finally pulled himself together enough to say, in an attempt at a jovial tone, “You’ll have no problems like that with Kitty, Mr. Honeycutt. She is our least aggressive salesperson – so much so that she is about to put us out of business.”

Mr. Bryant added the last part with a fake laugh, which tapered off far too suddenly.

Mr. Honeycutt smirked. 

“Then she is the salesperson I want to deal with. _Only_ her.”

Mr. Bryant placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed Kitty forward. As he dropped his hand, it made contact with her bottom. Intentionally, she assumed. 

Reluctantly, the weasel-like man walked out from behind the counter and left them alone.

“So… How long have you been working here, Kitty?” Mr. Honeycutt asked, curiously.

“Just a few weeks.”

“Do you like it here?” 

“Of course, sir.”

He smiled at her and twisted the edge of his white mustache.

“That was a silly a question. I should know better than to ask someone whether they like a job they probably need or else they wouldn’t be here. They would probably be a fool to answer anything other than ‘of course’.”

Kitty smiled at him, but didn’t answer.

“I wouldn’t like it here if I had to work here. Your manager is a buffoon.” 

Her smile widened, but she still didn’t say anything. He bent over to peer into the glass counter.

“So, tell me what you think an old woman might like for birthday...”

Kitty pointed out a few pieces she thought might be appropriate for an older woman and tried them on for him, so he could see what they’d look like in person. 

Kitty and Mr. Honeycutt immediately developed a rapport. Kitty never felt safe in the presence of men and, within a very short time, Mr. Honeycutt proved himself to be the first one in a very long time to make her feel comfortable. She considered that it might be his age, but decided that it was because he was a kind and gentle man who managed to tease her, without flirting or making her feel ill at ease.

Mr. Honeycutt purchased several items from her that day, the largest sale she had ever made. When they were saying their goodbyes, Mr. Bryant walked up to see if he needed any additional help. 

“From now on, Bryant,” Mr. Honeycutt said, in a booming voice that caused several people in the area to turn and stare. “Whenever I come into your store, I want Kitty to be my personal shopper. I want her assistance with all of my purchases.”

“Mr. Honeycutt,” Mr. Bryant stammered, nervously. “Kitty works in jewelry and cosmetics. She only works in that department and she may not always be available.”

“Then make her available. I’m telling you now that when I come in here, I won’t buy one thing unless I’m being helped by my _friend_ over there.”

He held up his cane toward Kitty. She heard Mr. Bryant assuring Mr. Honeycutt that arrangements would be made so that Kitty would always be the sales clerk to assist him. As he turned to leave, Mr. Honeycutt turned to wave at her. She gave him a wide smile and waved back.

Kitty like the idea of having a friend. She very much needed a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Kitty loved this little park. She had discovered it one day, when she was exploring the local area, just after she had started working at Hadley’s. 

There was an employee canteen at the store, to be used for lunches and coffee breaks, but she had avoided it after the first week or so. She didn’t see the point of spending time in a place where she could smell food for an hour, when she wouldn’t be able to eat.

Charlie didn’t allow her to carry money, for fear of her having any kind of control over herself, and he watched her weight like a hawk. He liked her body to look a certain way and if it changed a bit, even if it was only due to the fact that she was retaining water during her monthly cycle, he made sure she heard about it. 

Truth be told, even if she had been allowed to purchase food from the canteen, she wouldn’t have. The other employees at the store were not overly friendly to her, mainly the female ones, and their stares made her uncomfortable... especially those of Mr. Bryant. Whenever he caught a glimpse of Kitty, he would make a beeline to her and spend whatever time he was in her presence making her uneasy with his inappropriate comments and ‘accidental’ touches. So, in order to make her life easier, Kitty made sure to leave the store whenever possible.

The park had been a godsend. She was lucky enough to always find an empty bench and could spend her entire lunch hour there, listening to the birds and watching people walk by. It was the best part of her day, the only time when she could be alone and not have to think about anything or anyone. Once in awhile, a man would walk up and try to engage her in conversation, and Kitty would have to firmly rebuff him but, for the most part, she would simply sit and just enjoy the world around her. 

Kitty had just sat down and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun shining on her face, when she heard her name. She opened her large, dark eyes, startled. She and Charlie hadn’t been in Phoenix long and she knew no one at all, other than the people she worked with at the store… and the men Charlie sold her to, of course. 

“Mr. Honeycutt!” she smiled, happily, recognizing the outline of his shadow. 

Kitty was genuinely delighted to see a friendly face.

“Are you not working today?” the elderly gentleman asked, taking a seat beside her, on the bench.

“I’m on my lunch break right now.”

“And you’re not having any lunch?” 

“Not today. I just thought I’d sit in the park and enjoy some sun, before the weather starts changing. It’s such a beautiful day,” she said, looking around the park. “What are you doing here?”

“My office is a couple of blocks over. Well, technically, I am supposed to be retired - that’s what my wife wants – but I can’t help but check things out at the company at least once a week. ‘Can’t keep the old bear out of the cave’ she likes to say,” he chuckled.

“You’re not _so_ old, Mr. Honeycutt,” Kitty grinned at him. 

“Oh, yes, I am. I’m easily old enough to be your grandfather.”

“Maybe so… but a _young_ grandfather.”

“You flatter me, girl… I was just going to grab myself some lunch, before I head back to the office, Kitty. Why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“Oh, thank you, sir, but I don’t think I’m allowed to spend time with customers outside of the store – and not at the cafe in the store, either.”

“Oh poppycock,” Mr. Honeycutt scoffed. “I can have lunch with anyone I want and I’d like to have it with you… if that’s acceptable to you, of course. I’d hate to force you to have lunch with me against your will.”

“No, sir, it’s not that at all! I would very much like to have lunch with you.”

“Then, come along,” he offered his arm to her. “Let’s go have some lunch. If Bryant dares give you any trouble at all, he’ll have me to deal with.”

Beaming, Kitty stood up and took his arm. 

Kitty smiled, as they strolled through the park, headed to the nearby restaurant that Mr. Honeycutt was describing to her. She hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time. To passersby, she knew that they looked like two family members, possibly a father and daughter or grandfather and granddaughter, strolling through the park on an early autumn day. No one would look at them and know what Kitty was, what she was forced to do, once she got home in the evening. To anyone who saw her now, she was just a girl. A normal girl. And that made her incredibly happy.

She grinned, as she listened to Mr. Honeycutt speak. This is exactly the type of grandfather she had wanted, growing up. One who would make her feel safe and would tell her stories or share facts and pieces of information with her, as Mr. Honeycutt was doing now, as he pointed out various buildings in the area and explained their history. 

“Have you been married long, Kitty?” he asked, once they had been seated at the restaurant.

Kitty looked at him, startled.

“I noticed your ring.”

“Not long,” she replied, simply. 

“Is he a nice boy?”

“Yes.” _No_ , she thought, at the same time.

“Are you happy?” Mr. Honeycutt smiled at her.

“Very much so.” _God, no. I don’t remember what it even feels like to be happy._

“I’m very glad to hear that.”

Mr. Honeycutt gave her a warm smile, before looking down to peruse the menu. Kitty stared at him, imploringly, for a long moment, her head filled with thoughts.

_‘I’m not married,’_ she wanted to tell him. _‘He tells people we’re married, and makes me tell people that, but it’s so people think we’re respectable. We’re not. He sells me to his friends for two dollars a turn, so he doesn’t have to work and he can gamble every day. If I try to say no, he hurts me… badly. I don’t have any family or friends and I don’t know what to do. Please help me get away from him!’_

But she said nothing and he noticed nothing.

When the server came, she tried to order a cheese sandwich and water, the least expensive item on the menu, but the old gentleman wouldn’t hear of it. He promptly ordered her the Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and a Coca-Cola.

“A growing girl needs to eat,” he explained. “And, my guess is, you’re hardly more than a child.”

She smiled in response.

“Are you from Phoenix, Kitty?”

“No, sir. I’m originally from Ohio, but my mother moved us to Chicago when I was a girl.” 

“When you were a _girl_?” he let out a good-natured laugh. “You’re hardly more than a _girl_ now... How old are you, if I may ask?”

“I’m eighteen-and-a-half.”

His laughter boomed through the cafe.

“That’s _exactly_ how to tell how young you are, Kitty,” he chuckled. “Only the very young add ‘and-a-half’ to their ages.”

Kitty felt her cheeks flush, in embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to do something uncouth or seem unsophisticated. 

Mr. Honeycutt sensed her unease and patted her on the hand.

“I’m teasing you, darling. Enjoy every minute of being young. It doesn’t last long at all. One day, you’ll be subtracting time from your age, instead of adding to it.”

She smiled at him. 

“So, tell me something about yourself, Kitty... What do you like to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing special... I like to dance. I like to see movies. I like to read...”

“Really? What’s your favorite author?”

“I like Virginia Woolf very much, I read her books when I was in school. Agatha Christie mysteries are very exciting.”

“I just finished a book called ‘Brave New World’. Have you read it?”

“No, I haven’t... I love reading, but I haven’t had much of a chance to do any since I moved out west. I don’t even have one book at home.”

“My wife has a book club, Kitty. You should join it! They meet at our house once every two weeks. They read a book and then discuss it together. It would be a chance for you to meet some other women, although none as young as yourself, I’m afraid. If you’d like, I can tell her that you’re interested and she would be happy to have you join.”

Kitty hesitated, the smile leaving her face.

“That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think… my husband would approve of me doing that. He doesn’t like for me to not be with him, when I’m not working.”

Mr. Honeycutt nodded, sympathetically.

“I can’t say I blame him there, Kitty... He’s probably terrified that some dashing young man is going to sweep you off your feet and steal you away from him.”

_If only that would happen._

“After all, you are such a _beautiful_ girl...”

Kitty froze, her blood suddenly going cold.

“Oh, I don’t mean anything inappropriate by that, Kitty,” Mr. Honeycutt said, sensing her sudden discomfort. “I assure you, I am not a dirty old man. I like you and the fact that you’re beautiful is a bonus, because it’s _always_ nice to look at something beautiful, but my interest in you is purely platonic.”

Feeling slightly relieved, though not entirely convinced, Kitty slowly let out the breath she had been holding.

“My wife and I couldn’t have any children. I don’t know if it was her or me or the two of us together, but it has always been a big regret. My wife always wanted a son and I always wanted a daughter… We ended up having several dogs, who we love dearly.”

“What are their names?” Kitty asked, softly.

“We have four right now. They are Rex, Susie, Muffin and Lord Chesterfield.”

“Lord Chesterfield?”

“His name was originally Chester, but he’s a bit more pretentious than the rest.”

Kitty laughed.

“Maybe you can meet them one day,” he said.

“I’d like that. Very Much.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Honeycutt, I am so sorry I’m late!” Kitty said, as she rushed to the table. “One of the other girls came back late from her break and I couldn’t leave my station until she returned.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kitty. It’s no problem at all,” he smiled, fondly, at her.

She collapsed into the chair, with a sigh. 

“But I _am_ sorry. You’re nice enough to take me to lunch every week and I don’t have any way to thank you, so the very least I can do to be on time.”

“You joining me is all the thanks I need. If you didn’t, I would be sitting here every Thursday, talking to myself.”

She gave him a warm smile.

“Did you run all the way here?” he asked, noticing how she tried to catch her breath.

“I did... It was a big mistake, running in heels. I think I may have ruined my shoes.”

Mr. Honeycutt looked at her, sympathetically.

“Oh Kitty, there was no need for that. I would have _happily_ waited for you and, if you hadn’t shown up, I would have checked at the store to make sure you were ok.”

“You’re a very nice man, Mr. Honeycutt.”

Smiling, she lifted her menu and gave it a quick skim, though it was merely a formality. Kitty and Mr. Honeycutt had been meeting once a week in this restaurant and she was well on her way to memorizing the menu.

These lunches had become the highlight of Kitty’s week. The hour they sat talking together filled her with a joy she had thought unimaginable. She loved having someone to talk to, someone who was actually interested in what she had to say, her thoughts and ideas. It had been so long since anyone had taken any interest in her as a person.

When Kitty set her menu down, she noticed two books sitting in front of her, on the table.

“What’s this?”

“They’re books,” Mr. Honeycutt replied, simply.

“I can see that,” she grinned. “But why are they here?”

“They’re for you… One is the book I told you about, ‘Brave New World’. The other is a gift from my wife.”

“Your _wife_?” she looked confused. “You told your wife about me?”

“I most certainly did. What, did you think I was keeping you a secret?”

Kitty smiled, noncommittally. 

While she had believed Mr. Honeycutt when he first told her that he had only the purest of intentions toward her, during her short life Kitty had learned that trusting men was a mistake… even ones who were nice to her. Sometimes, _especially_ the ones who were nice to her. She had learned the hard way that men who seemed very kind often hid a cruel streak that they had no qualms about displaying the second they had her alone in a bedroom. She still carried the scars, both physically and emotionally, from some of those encounters.

The fact that this man wasn’t hiding her existence and had actually shared information about her with his wife brought forth a burst of joy, mixed with relief, in Kitty. She suddenly knew in her heart that Mr. Honeycutt was indeed a good and decent man and that tiny bit of niggling doubt, which was a product of her distrust of men, immediately left her.

She sighed in relief.

“-then she asked me to bring you a copy of the book from her book club, so that you could, at the very least, get to read it, even if you weren’t able to join the club.”

“That’s awfully nice of her, Mr. Honeycutt. Of both of you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just read them and tell me what you think.”

“I will,” she smiled. “I promise.”

“And before I forget...”

The elderly man set a small piece of candy, which was wrapped in cellophane that was marked with the logo of a local chocolatier. 

“This one is buttercream,” he explained.

Kitty smiled at him, from across the table.

“Mr. Honeycutt, you don’t have to bring me candy every time we meet. It’s enough just to be able to see you.”

“Yes, I do. If I get myself a piece, I don’t see why you shouldn’t have one, too... You do like chocolate, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but you’re spoiling me. First the lunches and now this? I feel like you’re fattening me up for the kill,” she teased.

“Fattening you up? You’re as tiny as a baby bird! Doesn’t your husband let you eat?”

The smile remained plastered on Kitty’s face, though her mood darkened at the mention of Charlie.

“Of course he does… He just doesn’t want to have to buy me new clothes, if I can’t fit into mine anymore.”

“Well, that will happen anyway, once you start having babies.”

Kitty shifted, uncomfortably. 

“Do you ever think about having children?” Mr. Honeycutt asked. “I mean, you’re married and that’s usually the next logical progression.”

“We don’t really talk about it.”

It wasn’t exactly untrue. While she and Charlie didn’t have discussions about whether or not either of them wanted children, he was the one who had marched her down to the doctor’s office the morning after the first night they had been intimate... Well, the morning after he had first forced himself on her.

Charlie had told the doctor that his wife was too young to start a family and that she needed whatever it took to prevent her from getting pregnant. They had left the doctor’s office with a diaphragm and Charlie had immediately taken Kitty home, so they could… _try it out_. It was that day Kitty’s repeated and, often brutal, sexual abuse, both by Charlie and eventually others, began.

Thankfully, Charlie was adamant about Kitty’s not getting pregnant and, as a result, made sure that she was diligent about using her birth control… not that _she_ wouldn’t have been, if left to her own devices. The worst thing she could imagine was bringing a child into the world in which she was currently living… especially one where Charlie, or any of them men he forced her to _entertain_ , was the father. Kitty thought it to be a fate worse than death.

“Well, you’re very young, Kitty. While I’m sure you would be a wonderful mother, you have the rest of your life to think about things like starting a family.”

Kitty shuddered, as she tried not to think of what tortures the rest of her life would entail.


	4. Chapter 4

Kitty had just finished helping a customer, when Mr. Bryant sidled up to her.

“You seem to be the most popular girl in this store, Kitty,” he said, acidly. “The woman at the jewelry counter is asking specifically for you.”

She glanced over to the counter, to see an elegantly dressed woman standing there, staring at her.

“Me? But I don’t know anyone in town,” she said.

“That is _Mrs._ Honeycutt and she is asking for _you_. I hope you haven’t been doing anything with her husband that you oughtn’t.”

Kitty’s dark eyes widened, as she looked at her boss, shocked.

“I haven’t at all! I just talk to him.”

“I hope that’s the truth. Now, _get over there_ ,” he hissed. “Women like that do _not_ like to be kept waiting!”

Mr. Bryant gave her a shove and Kitty stumbled, drawing the attention of several bystanders.

Kitty straightened her skirt, tucked a dark auburn curl behind her ear, and walked behind the jewelry counter. Apprehensively, she approached the imposing looking woman.

“My name is Kitty, ma’am. I was told you asked for me.”

The older woman was very tall, a few inches taller than Mr. Honeycutt, and thin. Her hair was gunmetal gray and there wasn’t a strand out of place. Her lips were thin and colored brick-red and her eyes brown, smaller and darker than Kitty’s. 

The woman stared at her a long time, an appraising look on her face. Under the intense scrutiny, Kitty lowered her eyes, toward the floor. 

“Eugenia Honeycutt.”

Trembling, Kitty reached out to shake the hand that had been extended to her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Honeycutt. I’ve heard so much about you from your husband.”

“I was very interested in meeting you, Kitty. I wanted to meet the woman who has been picking out my gifts.”

Kitty gave her a timid smile.

“I hope you liked them. I didn’t really know your tastes, so I just tried to give Mr. Honeycutt some general advice about what women like and-”

“You’re a very pretty girl. My husband didn’t mention that,” the woman said, without emotion. “But why would he?”

“Thank you, ma’am… and thank you so much for the book you sent with Mr. Honeycutt. That was so nice of you.”

“Did you like it?”

“I haven’t had a chance to finish it yet, but I’m enjoying it very much... I don’t have a lot of free time after work, so I use my lunch hour to read as much as possible. What I have read so far, I’ve really enjoyed,” Kitty smiled, trying to look as friendly as possible.

Mrs. Honeycutt did not return her smile, causing Kitty’s to falter.

“My husband told me that you were young, hardly older than a girl. Now that I see you in person, I can see that you’re very young, but you are _not_ a child. Your eyes are older than your years.”

Kitty averted her eyes, quickly, afraid of what the woman might see in them.

“Harvey told me that you lost your parents. Is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am. My father several years ago and my mother in the Spring.”

Mrs. Honeycutt nodded.

“He also told me that you like to read.”

“Yes, very much so.”

“But that your husband won’t let you join my book club.”

Kitty hesitated.

“Well… I haven’t _actually_ asked him. He wouldn’t let me, though. I just know it, from experience. He’s a little...”

“Controlling?”

Kitty looked at her, astonished that the woman seemed to be reading her mind.

“I- I wouldn’t… _exactly_ say that.”

“What would you say… _exactly_?”

Kitty opened her mouth, but no words escaped it. She stood there a moment, speechless, before Mrs. Honeycutt nodded, understanding.

“When did you marry your husband?”

“In the Spring.”

“How long after your mother died?”

“A few weeks... Then we moved here.”

“Do you have family or friends here, in Phoenix?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I see… Is he older than you?”

“Ten years.”

“Hmm...”

Mrs. Honeycutt continued looking at Kitty, while the girl stared back at her with a nervous, but what she hoped was a warm, smile on her face.

“I just wanted to see what I am up against, Kitty. To see what kind of woman you are.”

Kitty’s brow furrowed, in confusion. 

“There are different kinds of women in the world, Kitty. Ones you have to beware of, as a _wife_... The kind that would prey upon a man, to see what all she could get out of him. You are a wife. You know which kind of women I mean.”

The girl nodded.

“I understand, Mrs. Honeycutt... but I am not one of those kind of women. I _promise_ you that… I care very much for your husband, but _only_ as a friend... I assure you, ma’am, that your husband doesn’t even view me as a _woman_. He treats me as if I am a child, a daughter or a granddaughter. He brings me a little piece of chocolate each time I see him. I’m eighteen years old! I haven’t even been a woman for a year yet… I don’t know anyone here. He’s very nice to me and I enjoy talking with him very much. I have lunch with him once a week or I see him here in the store, when he buys something for you. He tells me about the trips the two of you have taken and what other countries are like... He teaches me about history and literature… That’s all, I promise. That’s _all_.”

Kitty took a deep breath. Her eyes had filled with tears while she was speaking, but she had managed to keep them from falling and had kept her voice to a whisper. Mrs. Honeycutt nodded and, for the first time, gave her a small smile.

“I like you, Kitty. You seem like a very nice girl… I wish very much that you could join my book club, but I understand _all too well_ why you can’t.”

The girl nodded.

“I wish that I could, as well,” she murmured.

“I will be very busy these upcoming weeks, several commitments and social engagements that I cannot get out of… When my schedule permits, though, I would very much like to spend some time with you, to get to know you, if that would be ok with you. You seem as if you could use a _friend_ , Kitty.”

The breath Kitty didn’t realize she had been holding escaped her.

“Oh Mrs. Honeycutt…” she breathed. “I would like that _so_ very much.”

The older woman reached across the counter, with her elegantly gloved hand, and reached for Kitty’s. She gave it a squeeze. They exchanged a smile.

“Now, I need your help with some cosmetics. The lipstick I’ve been wearing washes me out something awful and I can’t stand the thought of using it one more day.”

Kitty nodded and, unable to keep from smiling, began pulling out products to show her new friend.


	5. Chapter 5

“Less of a broad smile, Kitty… Tilt your head to the right… Chin down a bit… There you go. Perfect!”

The flash went off and everyone relaxed. 

Kitty looked to her left and saw Mr. Honeycutt standing next to Mr. Bryant, watching her with a large smile on his face. She returned his smile, before looking back at the photographer. 

It took awhile but the first chance she got, after the photographer’s assistant had removed her hat and the jewelry, she rushed straight over to him.

“Mr. Honeycutt, hello!” 

“Hello, Kitty. I hear you’re a model today!”

“I _am_. Isn’t it exciting? I’ve never done anything like this before! Mr. Bryant chose me to be in the advertisements for the store... I’ve been getting to dress up and someone takes my picture. It’s been such a fun day!” she said, excitedly.

“Well, you look like you’ve been doing it all your life,” he smiled at her, warmly. “You should actually consider modeling for a living, Kitty.”

“Oh, I’m way too short for that, but it’s fun to do for the day,” she scoffed.

Kitty noticed Mr. Bryant’s eyes sliding up and down her body and shifted, uncomfortably. 

“Do you need my help, Mr. Honeycutt?” she asked, ignoring her manager. “The photo shoot has just finished now and it will take me a moment to get back into my uniform and some of this makeup off my face, but I’d be happy to help you as soon as I do.” 

“No, no, I’m not here for anything other than to watch you. Bryant, here, told me what was going on at the store today and I just thought I’d drop by and see all the excitement, on my way home. I wanted to see how you were doing and to bring you a new book.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a hardcover book, handing it to her.

“It’s this month’s book for the book club. My wife enjoyed it very much and insisted I bring it down to you as soon as possible.”

Kitty looked at cover and traced the letters of the title. ‘The Postman Always Rings Twice’ it read.

“Thank you, Mr. Honeycutt. It’s so nice of you to bring this and to give me your support by coming today. That means a lot to me.”

“Anytime, my dear... Did you finish the last book I gave you?”

“I did and I enjoyed it so much! I’ll put it in my purse, so that I have it to return to you the next time I see you.”

“Oh no,” he smiled. “My wife said for you to keep them, so that you build a little library of your own at home.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. Please... I’m already so grateful that she’s even loaning them to me. I couldn’t possibly keep them.”

“I insist, Kitty. _Actually_ , Mrs. Honeycutt insists.”

Kitty smiled, gratefully.

“Thank you so much, sir. And please thank _her_ for me, too. I hope to see her again someday, so that I might thank her myself.”

“That’s a really wonderful idea, Kitty. She has been talking about-”

“Excuse me, Kitty...”

Both Kitty and Mr. Honeycutt turned to see a man standing off to the side, holding out a business card to her. It was the photographer who had been taking Kitty’s picture.

“This is my card... I took a look at those test shots from last week and the camera loves you, Kitty, so, if you are ever interested in any other kinds of modeling jobs, let me know.”

She took the card and looked at it.

“I thought you said I was too short for modeling…?” she said, questioningly.

“Well, there are _other_ kinds of modeling...” he said, leaning close to her ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you are not too attached to your _clothes_ , of course.”

Kitty took a step back and, instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself, lowering her eyes to the floor.

Mr. Honeycutt immediately reached out and grabbed the photographer’s arm.

“Hey!”

The older, but much larger man, yanked the young photographer forward, so that their faces were separated by only a couple of inches.

“What do you _think_ you’re doing talking to a young lady like that?”

“What do you mean?” the man protested. “I was offering her a _job_!”

“A job that didn’t involve her wearing clothes! _How dare you!_ She is a _lady_ and you will treat her that way or I’ll see to it that you never work in this town again, do you hear me?”

The photographer nodded, in shock.

“Now, apologize to her!”

He looked at Kitty, who was gaping at the elderly man. 

“I- I’m sorry, Kitty.”

“It’s ok,” she murmured, avoiding eye contact with him.

Mr. Honeycutt released the photographer and the young man quickly scampered off. He turned to Kitty and placed his hands on her shoulders. When she didn’t look at him, he reached over and lifted her chin, forcing the young girl to meet his eyes. He smiled, kindly.

“Don’t ever let anyone treat you in a way you don’t want to be treated, Kitty. You deserve better than that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I mean it, darling. People will only treat you the way you _allow_ them to. If you don’t tell them ‘no’, they might not understand what they’re doing is wrong, even if they _should_ know.”

Mr. Honeycutt pulled her into a hug and, after the briefest hesitation, Kitty wrapped her arms around the man who had become her savior.


	6. Chapter 6

“I was on the street car today, Kit, and I saw the strangest thing...”

Kitty didn’t respond, as she mashed the pot of potatoes she was making. She knew better than to ever answer him, unless he specifically asked her a question.

“Do you know what I saw, Kit?”

“No, Charlie.”

A newspaper was suddenly held in front of her face. Kitty stared at an image of herself, which was part of an advertisement for Hadley’s. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, black satin gloves and was displaying an expensive jeweled bracelet on her wrist, as well as a coy smile on her face.

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me about this?”

Kitty looked at him, petrified, and began to tremble. Keeping things from Charlie usually earned her a bruise the size of Texas on some part of her body. He held her dark eyes with his pale blue ones.

“I- I didn’t think there was anything to tell. I had to take the pictures f-for work.”

“Did they pay you _extra_ for them?”

“No...” she answered, truthfully. “Mr Bryant didn’t want to have to pay a professional model, so he used someone from the store and that someone was me.”

“Were there any _other_ models?

“There was a male model, for the menswear.”

“But no other _girls_?”

“No, just me.”

Charlie nodded.

“He must think you’re very pretty to have chosen you to be the _only_ girl in the shoot.”

“I-I’m probably the only one who fit the clothes properly, Charlie. I’m very _small_ ,” she insisted.

“A store like Hadley’s isn’t going to choose some _ugly_ girl to model clothes, just because they fit. He chose you because he thought you would photograph well. Obviously, he was right...”

Charlie sat at their tiny table and gazed at her picture, while Kitty turned back to finish making their dinner.

“I never thought of you as a model before, Kit,” he said, almost to himself. “I mean, you’re cute and all, but you don’t look like the model type... But, hey, if other people think you’d make a good one, maybe we should try to get you into modeling. There’s probably some money to be made there.”

“I’m too short to model, Charlie… and I don’t have the face for it.”

“There are lots of kinds of modeling, baby… The modeling I’m thinking of doesn’t have a height requirement and they sure won’t be looking at your _face_. The rest of you would be perfect for _that_ kind of modeling. I know a lot of guys who would be interested in pictures like that.”

Kitty breathed in, shakily, terrified to disagree with him.

“What was the name of the photographer who took these?”

“I don’t know,” she lied. “It was just a man the store hired. I didn’t even talk to him.”

“Find out the name. I want to see if he has any side operations that he could use you for.”

“He didn’t seem like _that_ sort of photographer, Charlie.”

“Find out anyway,” he insisted. “Maybe he wants to take some for his own _personal_ collection.”

Charlie stood up and his sudden movement caused Kitty to start and drop the spoon she had been using. 

“What are you so jumpy for?” he asked, as he began putting on his hat and coat.

“I’m sorry… Are you leaving?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

Normally, Charlie hated it when she asked him questions, but, for some reason, it didn’t seem to phase him at all.

“I’m going to go buy up _every_ copy of the paper that I can find. I can’t _wait_ to show the guys…”

He took another look at the photo, looking at it, proudly, before looking at her.

“ _My_ girl’s a model! I can’t believe it… Man, Kit, they’re going to be _standing in line_ for you once I show them this. I used to just show that picture of you we took in the photo booth to men I thought would be interested, but this… _All_ men want to do a model. Hell, I might be able to charge even _more_ for you now.”

Kitty lowered her head and sighed.

“Give me a kiss, _pretty girl_.” 

Keeping her eyes on the ground, she turned her face towards him, in defeat, and let him press his lips to hers.

“Keep dinner warm, babe,” he said. “I’ll be home later and then I want my _own_ go at you. I want to know what it’s like to have sex with a model.”

After giving her a final smack on the bottom, Charlie left the apartment. 

Sobbing, Kitty collapsed into the chair he had just vacated.


	7. Chapter 7

“Mr. Honeycutt! How are you today?”

Kitty smiled, trying to appear happy, as her favorite customer approached the counter.

“I am splendid, just splendid. And yourself, Kitty?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know if I’m _quite_ to the level of being splendid, but I’m fine.”

“Not splendid… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all. I’m fine,” she insisted.

When Mr. Honeycutt looked at her for a millisecond too long, Kitty became terrified that he would see something in her eyes, so she looked away.

“What are you looking for today?” she asked, cheerily, trying to change the subject.

“You, actually.”

Kitty looked at him, confused.

“Me?”

“Yes, I wondered if you wouldn’t like to have a bit of lunch with me right now. I have an unusually packed schedule today, and I will busy at our normal time, but I thought I could manage to squeeze in an hour a bit earlier for my favorite girl.”

She sighed.

“I would really love to… You can’t imagine _how much_ I would, especially today. I can’t go to lunch for at least an hour though.”

He snorted, in disappointment.

“Oh dear, that’s a problem. I _really_ must be back for a meeting in an hour. I am so sorry, Kitty.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Honeycutt. There’s always next week,” she smiled, sadly.

Mr. Honeycutt stared at her a long moment, searching her face.

“What’s the matter, Kitty? Is something bothering you today?”

Kitty plastered a smile onto her face and shook her head. 

“Nothing. I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

“Kitty...” he said, reaching across the counter for her hand. “You know that I care about you, right? You’re like a daughter to me.”

“I know, sir. Thank you.”

“You can come to me with anything. _Anything at all_. I will always help you in whatever way possible.”

Kitty took a breath. She was on the verge of telling him what Charlie had done to her the night before, all because she protested when he had approached her for sex... after he had forced her to service _two_ of his friends. _At the same time._ How he had kicked in the back and that she was currently in agonizing pain and probably needed a doctor, because she had been vomiting all night and there had been blood in her urine this morning.

“Mr. Honeycutt-” she breathed, ready to speak.

“Mr. Honeycutt!”

Mr. Bryant walked up, having spied his most valued customer holding the hand of his least valued employee. He shot Kitty a look and she stood up, wiping her eyes.

“What can we do for you today? Are you in the market for something special?”

“No, no nothing…” the older man said, distractedly. “I just needed to talk to Kitty for a moment.”

“I know you like Kitty, Mr. Honeycutt, and we _love_ having you drop by whenever you fancy… but Kitty makes her living by _making sales_ , sir. Surely, you _understand_ that.”

“Of course, of course…” Mr. Honeycutt stammered, confused by the look he had seen in Kitty’s eyes and thrown off guard by the weasley little manager’s meddling. “Kitty was just going to show me a brand of perfume she had recommended for my wife.”

“Oh… Which perfume is that?” Mr. Bryant asked, in a jovial voice that was nearly mocking in tone.

“What is the name of it, Kitty?” he asked, absent-mindedly. “The one you like so much.”

Kitty turned around and grabbed a box of the most popular perfume in the store. She handed it to Mr. Honeycutt.

“This is the one, sir.”

“You like this one, do you, Kitty?” Mr. Honeycutt asked, searching her face.

“Yes, sir. Very much so.”

“I’ll take it then. Will you wrap it for me?”

“Of course.”

Mr. Honeycutt stood at the counter, waiting for Kitty to finish wrapping up the purchase. He hoped to have a moment alone with her, but Mr. Bryant refused to leave the two of them alone for as much as a second, even as Kitty handed him the box and the receipt.

“Ok, then… Have a lovely day, Kitty. Remember what I said...”

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” she tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Goodbye Mr. Honeycutt!’ Mr. Bryant called out, in a sing-song voice.

As Kitty watched her friend walk out the door, she made a vow to herself that she would tell him everything and ask for his help the very next time she saw him.


	8. Chapter 8

When Kitty walked out of Hadley’s, she saw Mr. Honeycutt standing there, in front of a waiting cab. She was surprised to see him, as he had just left the store a few of hours before. He looked nervous, as she approached him.

“Mr. Honeycutt!” she smiled. “Did you forget something? I’m so sorry, but the store has just closed. But we’ll be open again at 9:00 tomorrow. Mr. Bryant should be out in a moment, if it’s an emergency.” 

“No, Kitty...” he murmured, avoiding eye contact. “I’m here for _you_.”

“For me?” she said.

Kitty sighed, in relief. Mr. Honeycutt had seen the look in her eyes earlier and knew she was in need of help. Thank God. Her savior was here to help her.

“No...” he said, nervously. “Your… _manager_ told me to meet you here.”

“My _manager_? Mr. Bryant told you to meet me here? Mr. Honeycutt, I’m afraid I don’t understand…” Kitty set her hand on his arm and tried to make eye contact with him, but he avoided looking directly at her. 

“He told you to meet me here for _what_?”

He hung his head, mildly frustrated that she was going to make him say it out loud.

“No… Not Bryant… Your _business_ manager. Over there.”

Kitty turned to look toward the direction where had gestured and immediately felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. 

At the end of the block, she saw Charlie standing there, watching her. She suddenly knew exactly what he meant and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears on the spot.

“-I gave him the two dollars and he told me to just meet you here, when you finished with work. I mean, the store…. He said you’d know what to do.”

She could not bring herself to look at Mr. Honeycutt, so she continued looking at Charlie, who stared right back at her, as he took a drag on his cigarette. Finally, he gestured at Mr. Honeycutt.. She knew from experience that it was a warning.

“Kitty?”

Slowly, Kitty turned back to Mr. Honeycutt. She forced herself to look up at him, to meet the eyes of her savior. Her friend. Her make-believe grandfather. The man who was the only bright spot of her life and who was the only person she was ever happy to see… up until this very moment.

“Are you ok?” he asked. “Do you need anything? I have a cab here. I can take you anywhere.”

She saw Charlie standing down the street. He had moved, so that she could see him in her peripheral vision. She unconsciously licked her lips, a nervous habit she’d had ever since she was a child. When she looked up to see her dear Mr. Honeycutt’s gaze focused intently on her lips, her blood ran cold. 

All emotion immediately left her, as if her sadness was the water in a bathtub and someone had pulled the plug. As all feeling drained from her, she was left cold and empty.

“Let’s go...” she said.

He held open the door for her and she settled into the backseat. As he went around to the other side, she looked out the cab window to see several of the other shop girls staring at her and whispering. She averted her eyes, only to catch the stare of her manager, Mr. Bryant, as he also stood in front of the store. Kitty turned her head, to stare at the back of the seat in front of her. As they pulled away from the curb, she saw Charlie out of the corner of her eye, but refused to glance his way.

She gave the name of a discreet hotel, which didn’t mind renting by the hour. Charlie used to make her ‘work’ out of their apartment, but then found that it inconvenienced him, in case he happened to be there. He had found the hotel and the customer always paid for the room, as well as for her.

“I’ve never seen you out of your uniform before.”

Kitty quickly turned to look at him and Mr. Honeycutt immediately realized the implication of what he had said.

“I mean, in your normal clothes.”

She was wearing a simple, white cotton dress, with capped sleeves and a full skirt that fell below her knees. It was her favorite because it always made her look and feel far more virginal than she actually was and not one day older than her eighteen years. She knew she would never be able to wear it again without thinking of today.

“We leave our uniforms at the store, so they can be cleaned,” she explained, softly. “We get a fresh one to put on every morning, when we arrive.”

“You look very nice.”

“Thank you.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, before Mr. Honeycutt cleared his throat. Things had never been so awkward between them.

“I didn’t know you did this… _line of work_.”

She didn't respond.

“I wish I had known earlier. I would have saved a lot of time and money, instead of thinking of things to buy every week, just to spend time with you.”

She looked at him, sadly, and he was smiling at her, as if trying to tease her, attempting to make things less awkward. He didn’t appear to realize that he was achieving the exact opposite, that every comment he made was destroying her, bit by bit.

“Don’t misunderstand me, I _love_ our talks and spending time with you. I had _never_ thought of you this way... Ok, I _did_ -” He had started rambling. “ _All_ men do, when they see a pretty woman... It’s the nature of the beast. I think about you _all_ the time. I even bought a bottle of that dime store perfume that you said you wear because I wanted to be able to smell it and think of you whenever I want…. But I would have never approached you or done anything untoward. _Never_. But your mana- Was that your _husband_ -?”

Kitty didn’t answer, but Mr. Honeycutt hadn’t even given her a chance to.

“When he approached me and told me that if I’d like to… _spend time_ with you… How to go about it, you know. I mean, if this is what you _do_ for a living, then why shouldn’t I take advantage of it? It’s not as if I am your first, right? I’m not leading you down a road you aren’t already on… It’s your _chosen_ profession. And why wouldn’t I jump at the chance? You’re so…” he struggled to find the right word.

_Chosen profession._

“This is it, on the right,” she said, suddenly, to the driver.

After they left the car and Mr. Honeycutt had paid the driver, they entered. The middle-aged desk clerk knew Kitty and discreetly handed her a room key, after he had been paid. He knew what she was there for, and had even bought her a few times himself, but always behaved professionally. 

Kitty led the way up the stairs and into the room. She turned to look at Mr. Honeycutt, as he looked around at the room. It was one of the nicer ones, but small and only contained a bed and one chair. Thankfully, it had an en-suite bathroom.

“How does this work?” Mr. Honeycutt asked, uncertainly. “I’ve never done this before.”

“It depends on what you want, sir.”

She stared up at him, unsmiling and not caring that he was ill at ease. She was certain that she was far more uncomfortable than he was.

“What are my options?” he asked.

“Anything you want. You paid for it.”

“Um… Is there a list or…?”

“Your imagination is the list, Mr. Honeycutt.”

“Harvey. Please, Kitty.”

“Harvey.”

The name was like acid in her mouth, but he was the customer, so she did what he wanted. When she gave it a split second of thought, she found that it was better. It separated the man who would soon be touching her from the man she thought of as Mr. Honeycutt.

“Um… Just the standard, I guess.”

Kitty nodded. 

“Excuse me, please,” she said, softly. “I didn’t expect to… work right now, so I need a moment. I’ll be right back.”

She went into the small restroom, with her bag. 

Normally, inserted her diaphragm in the employee restroom at work, before she headed home. While Charlie often had a customer waiting for her at the small apartment they shared, she usually had some time to take care of herself beforehand. However, there had been a few occasions when he had wanted her for himself the second she walked in the door and he was not so generous then. This morning, he had told her that he was going out, so she felt comfortable foregoing her birth control until she got home. It was a mistake. 

Though Charlie had never shown up at her job before, with or without a customer, she should have known better. Underestimating him was never an option.

After inserting her diaphragm and washing her hands, Kitty took off her shoes, dress and stockings. She removed her chaste white bra, but left her slip and underwear on because some customers liked to remove those themselves. 

Afterwards, she looked at herself in the mirror, as she always did, making sure there was nothing in her teeth or nose. She could focus on her individual features, but avoided looking into her own eyes at all costs. She always did her best to keep from making eye contact with herself because she hated the person who looked back at her with a passion. She couldn’t pretend with the Kitty in the mirror, she couldn’t hide anything from her. She also couldn’t handle the pain and the pleading that the Kitty in her reflection looked at her with. So she ignored her.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her slip and walked back into the bedroom. Mr Honeycutt was sitting on the edge of the bed, but jumped up immediately when he saw her. He had removed his coat and shoes, but nothing more. His mouth gaped as he looked her up and down. She had seen the look before and it didn’t impress or flatter her.

“You are so… _beautiful_ ,” he choked.

“Thank you,” she said, automatically.

He cupped her face with his hands, taking a long moment to drink in her features. She stared back at him, expressionless. Yes, he might be treating her with more tenderness than most men who bought her, but it wouldn’t last. It never did. 

Suddenly, he pounced at her, taking her silk covered breasts into his hands and attacking her neck with his lips and tongue. She tilted her head, which he took as an attempt to grant him better access and, therefore, attacked her pale skin with more fervor. Really, she had only been trying to move her face as far away as possible.

As his hands roamed over her body, first over the slip and then under, she found herself wondering why men told women they were beautiful, as if women wanted or needed that affirmation from men. All women are beautiful - women know that, even if men don’t. Men are concerned with whether a woman’s facial features fit together in a way they find personally pleasing or the size and shape of her breasts. Women know that a woman’s beauty can be found in things that men don’t seem to notice, such as the sound of her laugh or in the shape of her fingers. Men always seem to feel that, by telling her that she’s beautiful, he has given her a gift, as if she weren’t beautiful before he said it and wouldn’t continue to be every bit as beautiful afterwards. She then wondered why women always thank a man after he says that she’s beautiful. It’s not as if they had anything to do with the way she looks.

Perhaps if men knew that being considered beautiful wasn’t a gift, they wouldn’t expect gratitude after they say it. Men finding a woman beautiful leads to attention, usually unwanted, and, with that unwanted attention comes pursuit and, often, harm. It was not a gift to be considered beautiful by men. Not at all.

She was shaken from her thoughts as she landed on the bed, face first. She concluded that he didn’t want ‘just the standard’ after all. Looking over her left shoulder, she saw him unbuckling his belt and quickly turned back around. She didn’t want to have to see him naked. Not Mr. Honeycutt. Harvey. He was Harvey now, not _her_ Mr. Honeycutt at all. 

She wished she had prepared for this. The lubricant was in her bag and, by the way he was frantically pulling off her underwear, he probably wouldn’t want to allow her the time to get it. Her slip had already been removed before she landed on the bed.

“Move forward,” he grunted.

Kitty crawled forward, to the headboard. She braced herself, as he pulled her hips up and pushed her legs apart. She had no idea where he would choose to enter her but she prayed that, wherever he did, he wouldn’t hurt her. So many of them liked to do that... to cause pain. While the injury at the time was never fun, the worst part was when the pain lingered for days, reminding her of the event every time she involuntarily winced. 

She had slowed her breathing and was trying to relax her muscles in preparation, when suddenly there was a tongue between her legs. Kitty lifted her torso from the bed enough to see the top of Mr. Honeycutt’s bald pate and his arms curled around each of her legs. She released a sigh of relief as he worked between her legs with his mouth. At least, he wasn’t hurting her, she thought.

He used his hands to guide her movements and she reacted mechanically. She always did and they never seemed to notice. Well, not usually. Once in awhile, she had a customer who would get angry that she didn’t seem to be enjoying herself and would complain to Charlie about how cold she was. He would scream at her and punish her, but she hadn’t learned to pretend yet. She couldn’t imagine how she had ever wanted to be an actress when she was a child. Over the last few months, she had come to realize how difficult acting really was.

Mr. Honeycutt suddenly disappeared from between her thighs.

“Turn over. I want to see that pretty face of yours.”

Kitty did as instructed, turning onto her back. He was standing at the end of the bed, naked, holding his penis in his hand. She averted her eyes, immediately. She did not want to know what Mr. Honeycutt’s manhood looked like.

“Look at it,” he insisted.

Kitty did as she was told. She always did.

It looked angry and red, in a patch of wiry, gray hair. It had never occurred to her that pubic hair would turn gray. She had never thought about it before. He was certainly the oldest man she had ever been with. It was bigger than Charlie’s, but every man she had seen seemed to be bigger than him. She wondered if that’s why Charlie was so mean.

“I cannot wait to put this in you.”

She swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, drew her feet up and placed them on the mattress, as she spread her legs apart. The mattress dipped, as he climbed onto it. He ran his palms up her legs and over her inner thighs, gently pushing them further apart. She stared at the ceiling, wishing he would get on with it and hoping it would be over quickly. He was making his way further up her body, while at the same time maneuvering his lower half to fit with hers. She felt him positioned at her entrance, poised there but not yet probing.

“Look at me, Kitty.”

Kitty brought her eyes from the ceiling to look at the man above her. Mr. Honeycutt, with the kind eyes. She didn’t see kindness in them now. She didn’t see any cruelty, but also not any kindness. Just want and desire, like every other man who had lain atop her. 

“Touch my face,” he said.

She brought up her hands from where they had been laying by her side and placed her palms on his cheeks. He tried to balance his weight on an elbow, as he put his right hand under her head, to pull it closer to his. He kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth with such force that it nearly made her gag. She both smelled and tasted herself on his face and tongue, as he kissed her. It didn’t bother her. She was familiar with the taste. The thickness of his moustache was a new sensation though. Not a pleasant one, but new.

He was trying to push his way into her, but the fact that she was dry was causing resistance. Kitty pulled away from his kiss and turned her face to the side, to lick the palm of her hand. She reached between them to slather his shaft with her saliva. This made him groan and immediately thrust forward, forcing himself into her. 

His lips descended onto her neck, biting and sucking at it. She wondered if his wiry mustache would leave marks and whether she would have to put some makeup to disguise them for work at the store tomorrow. In his fervor, he forgot to maintain his balance on the arm he had been using to keep his weight off of her and landed full force onto her small frame. Kitty gasped, trying to get air into her lungs because the wind had been knocked out of her. Mr. Honeycutt mistook the sounds she made for passion and, in response, began thrusting erratically, as Kitty tried to catch her breath.

Kitty never had a grandfather, but she had always wanted one. As Mr. Honeycutt was lying on top of her, clutching painfully at her buttocks as he pounded away inside of her, grunting in her ear about how beautiful she was, Kitty decided that she didn’t want one anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

Epilogue

Kitty was in front of a small mirror at the table in their kitchenette, removing the heavy makeup from her neck, when Charlie staggered into their apartment. She did not stop what she was doing, nor did she acknowledge him. From the look and smell of him, he had had a long night of booze, cigars and cards. Spending Mr. Honeycutt’s two dollars, no doubt. Her two dollars.

“Hey Kit…” he greeted her, almost jovially. He must have had a good night at cards. “Are you home already or have ya not left yet? I don’t even know what time it is.”

“I just got home,” she murmured.

“Really? Wow… It’s later than I thought. Rough night… Where’s dinner?”

“It’s 10:30 in the morning, Charlie.”

“Is it? No wonder it’s so bright out there.”

Kitty didn’t respond. Charlie took a seat at the table, next to her. It was the only place in the apartment to sit. He ran his fingers through his reddish blonde hair and stared at her a moment, as she used the cold cream and tissues to start wiping the makeup from her face. She didn’t look his way.

“How was last night?” he finally asked.

“Fine.”

“I saw him talking to you at the store, so I thought he’d be up for it. He seemed pretty excited when I talked to him… Is he the oldest one you’ve had?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, he seemed like his dreams had come true,” Charlie chuckled. “He couldn’t hand the money over fast enough.”

Kitty didn’t respond.

“Did he give you a tip?”

“A dollar. I left it on the bureau.” 

Charlie jumped up and went into the tiny bedroom.

Mr. Honeycutt had actually given Kitty two dollars as a tip, plus cab fare, but Charlie didn’t need to know that. She had foregone the cab, walked home and hid the rest of the money in the escape fund she had been building, over the past few weeks.

When Charlie came out, he was holding a bottle of perfume in one hand and stuffing the dollar in his front pocket.

“What’s this?”

“He gave it to me, as a gift. He had bought it for his wife earlier in the day… before you talked to him.”

Charlie sniffed the contents.

“Is it expensive? Can you return it for the money?”

“He had me put some on before I left, so it’s already used.”

“I guess I could sell it.”

“I think he wants me to wear it every time I see him from now on.”

Charlie shrugged and set the bottle on the table.

“Ah well… You _earned_ it, I guess. Hey, what are you doing home so early?”

Kitty sighed and, for the first time, turned to look at Charlie.

“My boss called me into his office this morning. He told me that my _husband_ had approached him yesterday and offered me to him for the price of two dollars.”

“Was he the little snake-like one? Beady eyes? Greased back hair?” 

“He wanted his two dollars worth and said that, if I didn’t give it to him right there and then, he was going to fire me.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t do anything with him. He didn’t give me any money. He told me he didn’t deal with ‘ _such people_ ’ and ordered me out of there.”

“ _What_?” she stared at him, incredulous.

“He told me that, if he ever saw me there again, he would call the police.”

“He made me _suck_ him, Charlie! Right there in his office. In my uniform.”

“That sonofabitch! I’m getting my money outta him, if I’ve got to beat it outta him!” he fumed. 

Charlie hated to be cheated out of money, especially by someone who looked down on him.

“He fired me anyway! He made me do that – you made me do that – and he still fired me! He said he couldn’t have whores working around _decent_ people.”

Kitty was doing her best to keep from crying. She had shed so many tears over the past several months, since her life had taken this horrible turn, that they could have filled a river. She had trained herself to stop showing emotion around Charlie because it made him feel powerful, but she was so angry right now.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re _stupid_ enough to give it away without making sure I got paid! You should have made sure first!”

“Why did you come to my _job_ , Charlie?” Kitty asked, sorrowfully. “I do everything you tell me to here, but why did you have to ruin it for me _there_? Why couldn’t you just let me have some sort of a normal life? To feel like a regular girl? I just want to be _normal_ again.”

Kitty dropped her head into her hands, when the tears started to fall. Charlie stared at the top of her head, as her shoulders shook. For a split second, he began to feel something but he immediately stamped that down in irritation. 

“You don’t _need_ that job, Kitty – I’ve told you a hundred times! You work all week in that place for less than what you make for one 15-minute lay – or a five-minute cocksuck! You were just wasting time there. Think of all the money you can make now that you have all this free time.”

What he said made Kitty cry even harder. She curled up in the stiff chair, wrapping her arms around around her torso, trying to comfort herself.

“Stop it, Kit.”

When she didn’t stop immediately, Charlie grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her out of the chair.

“Stop crying, goddammit! Before I give you something to _really_ cry about.”

She stopped crying at once, swallowing her final sob and allowing all emotion to drain from her. She stared straight ahead, but not really looking at anything. Charlie smiled and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“There’s my good girl.”

He sat back down in the chair and patted his lap, smirking up at her.

“Come here, baby. Give Daddy some sugar...”

Kitty took a seat on his lap and kissed him mechanically, before burying her face in his neck, in order to hide her disgust from him. She hated when he referred to himself as ‘Daddy’. Leopold Koranovsky had been a wonderful man, who would have murdered the man whose lap she was on if he had lived long enough to know what this man was doing to his youngest daughter, what he was _making_ her do. Of course, if he had lived, none of this would have happened. None of it.

She sat there for awhile, imagining all the ways her father could take revenge, as Charlie petted her and held her closely to him. As he ran his hands over her body, he breathed heavily into her ear and whispered all the things that he loved about her, all of them physical and most of them vulgar.

“Come on, Kit, I’m tired. Let’s go to bed,” he said, his face buried in her dark auburn hair.

“It’s probably only 11 am, Charlie. I’m not sleepy.”

“Who said anything about _sleeping_?” he pulled back to look at her and grinned, waggling his eyebrows in a way he thought to be flirtatious. 

“Charlie...” she pleaded. “I’ve had such a _horrible_ morning. And last night, as well. _Please_ …”

The grin left his face, as his cold blue eyes hardened. He gripped her arm tightly. Kitty suddenly remembered that she no longer had a job to hide at during the day, which also meant that Charlie didn’t have to keep from bruising her in places that were visible. He had free reign again and that was dangerous. He loved using her body as a canvas for his bruises, especially her face.

“Ok...” she sighed. “Let’s go to bed.”

“There’s my good girl,” he smiled, leaning forward to brush his dry lips against hers. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Charlie,” she said, automatically, dropping her eyes so he wouldn’t see the hatred in them.

"You're mine. You know that, right?"

"Yes, Charlie."

"I won't ever let you go. You belong to me... Now, let's go to bed."

“May I visit the restroom first, please, Charlie?” she asked, timidly. “The last thing I wa- _we_ want is for me to get pregnant.”

“Oh… Yeah, sure. Good thinking. You’re such a good little girl, Kit, always doing what’s best for us,” he smiled.

Charlie released her arm and gave her bottom a quick caress. She gathered up her purse, the mirror and the rest of the toiletry items and headed into the restroom. As she went through the process of readying her birth control, she could hear Charlie talking to her from the other side of the door.

“Hey, put some of that perfume on, Kit. That stuff smells nice… And some lipstick... The bright red one. You know how I love those lips of yours…. Man, I’m beat. You’re gonna have to do all the work, baby, because I am worn out. And I want to hear you this time. I’m sick of that silent, cold fish routine of yours.”

“Whatever you want, Charlie.”


End file.
